


The Sexual Awakening of Sebastian Moran

by Pluppelina



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Blow Job, Happy Ending, Homophobia, M/M, Self-Loathing, implied drunk sex, implied sex, mostly au for age range
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-20
Updated: 2015-07-24
Packaged: 2018-04-10 07:21:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4382531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pluppelina/pseuds/Pluppelina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three little glimpses of mornings, portraying key points in Sebastian Moran's struggle with self-loathing and the allure of Jim Moriarty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Un-betad and tagged explicit for chapter 3.

Sebastian wakes up with a pounding headache, feeling sick to his stomach. Last night must've been a laugh and then some, he thinks, to merit him being this sick, and at this hour. It’s late, and it must be bright, and he wants none of it, so he doesn’t open his eyes. Instead, he thinks back, trying to figure if it was worth it. Last night, which in his memory starts out with the lads at the pub and then quickly becomes nothing but a blur of lips and skin in the dark. The mere idea of having to wake up next to someone and go through the motions of offering her breakfast, a shower and a second go makes Sebastian feel even sicker. Whoever she is, she has to go. Now. Besides, no girl could possibly be worth all this.

Feeling a little better able to handle his situation now that he has a goal in mind, Sebastian carefully blinks his eyes open. The room isn't as bright as he thought it'd be, with the black curtains pulled firmly shut in the window, and for a moment this comes as a relief. Only, Sebastian doesn't have black curtains. It’s Jim who does. Jim, who's curled up on his side just next to Sebastian, breathing softly and steadily.

 _Shit_ is for a moment all Sebastian can think, and he closes his eyes again, hard. Fucking shit. What did he do? Is this real? The possibility makes his heart beat faster in his chest than he cares to admit. There’s always the possibility that this means nothing, of course, that he fucked some easy girl in the loo and then decided to go sleep it off at Jim’s place… But he doesn’t think so. That isn’t how this dream usually goes. On the other hand, this dream doesn’t usually feel so realistic, and he usually wakes up hard. He isn’t hard now. Just sick to his stomach.

Maybe if he pretends like this never happened, he can wake back up in his own bed. Maybe he can make it back into a dream, because certainly, this has to be reality. This, though... What did they actually do? How bad can it actually be? Carefully lifting the duvet they share as though it might bite, Sebastian determines with a quick look that they’re both naked. Jim is as pale and skinny as Sebastian always imagined he’d be, but he’s got more body hair than Sebastian had thought. For a moment, his eyes linger, but then he feels an unmistakable pull in his guts and he drops the covers harshly. No. No, this was never supposed to happen. None of this was. The mere idea of what they could’ve done spreads a cold panic through his gut so he sits, looking for clues - condom wrappers, ball gags, anything - and when there isn't anything at all to be found on the floor but clothes, he suddenly has trouble breathing. Shit, shit, shit. Was this all just innocent until he had to go and take a look? 

"Oh, relax," comes a calm murmur from Jim, not quite as tainted by sleep as Sebastian had thought it’d be. "You had the most spectacular case of whiskey dick I've ever seen. Not for a lack of trying, though. You were rather keen."

A moment passes as Sebastian just takes this in. He’d, what? Gotten drunk, felt brave, gone to seduce Jim? Judging by their state of undress, he might well have succeeded in that endeavour, if his body hadn’t failed him. He isn’t sure whether he ought to feel grateful or not about that. He isn’t sure whether he could go in for a kiss now, to make this horrible disgust at least be justified… But then the mere thought of it has his hands shaking, and he knows that he needs to get out. Now. He needs to be out of there fucking yesterday. 

Jim doesn’t say anything as Sebastian bolts out of bed, almost falling over the both of them onto the floor in his haste to get to and into his clothes. His shirt smells like old beer and he feels like throwing up, but then his boots are on and he makes to leave. At least Jim doesn’t have any flat mates to witness his absolute shame. At least he hasn’t done anything. At least whatever he tried for last night didn’t work. 

As Jim calls out, “Bye now gorgeous”, just as the door shuts behind him, that suddenly seems like a very small comfort.


	2. Chapter 2

Sebastian wakes up with a dry throat and a splitting headache. Sadly, it isn't splitting enough to slice out the memories of last night. Last night, when he'd been doing body shots off of Irene Adler, and danced on a table, and had a quick snog with Hannah Collins on a dare, before he'd stumbled out of the party to end the night in his customary way. Somehow or other, no matter who he was just about to pull, he always finds a way back to Jim Moriarty. Jim Moriarty, who's currently naked and curled up halfway on top of Sebastian's chest with the smirk of a cat who did indeed catch the proverbial canary. Pretending to sleep is clearly futile, and Sebastian still tries. Just for another minute. He doesn't want to have to leave yet. 

"I suppose you don't remember anything of last night this time around either," Jim murmurs, clearly not fooled. "I can assure you it was memorable, though, as always."

As always. That's how Sebastian knows he always ends up here; Jim tells him, and his mates tell him, asking him where the hell he went off to yet again. Sometimes he wonders how stupid they have to be to not draw any conclusions from his continuous disappearing act. Jim, on the other hand, isn't stupid. Jim has drawn plenty of conclusions, conclusions that he's kind enough to never mention outright. It's on account of this kindness that Sebastian gives Jim a one-armed hug, however brief, before he sits up. Jim lays down on the mattress easily, peering up at him with interest. Sebastian meets his gaze evenly, waiting, not quite daring him to talk, but not backing down either. In the end, Jim leans up and kisses him on the nose.

"Off you pop, then," he says, laying back down. Normally, Sebastian would have done so, getting up and getting dressed and getting out. This time, he hesitates. It's Sunday, no one is expecting him anywhere or to do anything, and it's so long since he and Jim did anything together. Anything sober, that is. Anything dressed. As loathe as he is to admit it, Sebastian does miss Jim, his friend. Jim, who is so much more than a drunken conquest. Always, before, Sebastian has kept those Jims quite separate in his mind - Jim, his best friend, and Jim, his drunken shag - but not now. Now, slowly, he lays back down again, too, with a vague thrill as for what is to come next. Maybe he's still drunk. That would explain it. At least it's comforting to think so.

"Nah," he says, putting on an ease he doesn't quite feel. "Not yet."

Jim's expression makes a sort of leap that Sebastian can't really place, as though he's impressed but doesn't want to show it or doesn't want to admit it - or maybe that's wishful thinking.

"Why, Basher, are you in the mood for seconds?" he asks teasingly, pushing up the pillow under his head a bit more. The idea does stir something in Sebastian, but he ignores it. He had his fill last night, and he can go weeks without, he knows from experience. He doesn't need to pursue that now. What he wants now is what they used to have, before, when sleep-overs were fuelled by too much video gaming rather than too much vodka. Except, of course, for the headache.

"I want an aspirin and a joint," he groans, rolling over onto his back and closing his eyes. He can all but feel Jim rolling his eyes dramatically at him.

"You're out of luck, darling," Jim says, getting on his back, too. "You did earn that hangover all for nothing, you know. I would've had you sober."

The mere idea has Sebastian's cheeks burning. He remembers yesterday clearly, stumbling into Jim's room - door unlocked, lubricant at the ready - and going immediately to kiss him. He remembers the great release of emotions as Jim undressed him, as Jim bent him over and pushed inside him. He remembers crying after he came. Doing that sober is, to him, unthinkable.

"No," he says, and it's all he manages before his throat closes up on him. He coughs, feeling like an absolute idiot. Even though he can tell that Jim glances up at him, Sebastian refuses to meet his gaze. 

"I've told you before," Jim tells him airily, "it's all fine."

No matter how often Jim tells him, Sebastian doesn't agree. It isn't all fine. Some things are below even him. Then again, if Jim's the only one to see him like that... Hesitantly, Sebastian opens his eyes. He's rewarded with a gentle, lingering kiss on the lips, and then Jim's out of bed, pulling on a robe.

"Breakfast?" he asks casually, and Sebastian nods as he sits back up. Yeah. Some good, strong coffee is just what he needs.


	3. Chapter 3

Sebastian wakes up feeling deliciously sore. They’ve been at it three times since last night already, and having just woken up from his second nap, Sebastian almost feels like another go. It would be painful at this point, he’s sure, but there’s little he revels in more than the physical sensations Jim can create in him – all of the physical sensations Jim can create in him. Basher Moran has never been afraid of pain, and right now, he isn’t afraid of much anything else, either. 

So, with a tingling in his palms, he rolls over in Jim’s bed and reaches out for him, running hungry hands down his chest. The smug smile on Jim’s face appears before he’s even opened his eyes, but he does soon enough, giving Sebastian a lazy look and reaching out with a hand to pet his lover’s hair. 

“Aren’t you eager, Tiger?” he asks, but he’s all smiles and touches about it, so Sebastian nods even as he reaches in to kiss Jim’s neck. The skin tastes warm and alive and Sebastian is absolutely through denying himself anything and everything he could ever want from it. 

“Well, you’re going to have to give me head if you expect me to join in the fun,” Jim goes on, still lying back. Sebastian barely bothers to glance up at his face before he moves down under the covers, kissing Jim’s chest and stomach on the way down. It isn’t enough to get Jim’s cock to show some interest, but that’s fine. Jim has never been one to deny himself, so Sebastian can easily understand that he craves less. He doesn’t have quite as much catching up to do. 

Eager to please and to get Jim’s body into a state where it can please in return, Sebastian takes Jim’s soft cock in his mouth and sucks gently, using his tongue on the underside to coax it to harden. Under Jim’s covers, he has no problem with this, giving or taking as much as he damn well pleases. Outside, in the sun, Jim kissed him hello yesterday afternoon, and Sebastian didn’t care who saw them. It’s all played out, now. It’s over, and the way Jim moans when Sebastian sucks him all the way in is the reward Sebastian gets. As far as he’s concerned, it’s the best reward a bloke could ever get. 

It doesn’t take long to get Jim an erection, and soon enough, he has his hand in Sebastian’s hair, perhaps manhandling his head a little more than is strictly necessary. That’s all fine, though; the tugging at his scalp gives him goose bumps all the way down his back. He does enjoy this, being used. Being domesticated. So he sucks harder, earning himself more moans and a cheeky little giggle. When he lifts his gaze to see what’s so funny, Jim only shakes his head at him. Sebastian’s own cock hangs hard and heavy between his legs, more than ready to go. 

“You’re adorable, Basher,” is all Jim says, and then his hands insist that Sebastian return to the task at hand. It brings a light pinkness to his cheeks, but Sebastian ignores it and shifts, enjoying himself as much as ever. The feeling that Jim is probably about to finish like this, in his mouth, doesn’t deter him at all. He’s done this before, and he knows that Jim will be kind enough to return the favour. When all is said and done, it doesn’t take any more than that to get Sebastian to suck and swallow.


End file.
